


Visiting for the Holidays

by bulletincookie



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Human Names Used, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 10:32:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13269597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bulletincookie/pseuds/bulletincookie
Summary: England has too much work piled on him last minute and can't visit France for Christmas, a holiday that both were really looking forward to. However, France isn't going to take no for an answer.





	Visiting for the Holidays

**Author's Note:**

> Oops this is incredibly late. Anyways here's my Week of Hetalia Secret Santa gift for american-lady on tumblr. I've never written FrUK before, but my proofreader sinunamor says it's good so here it is.

Arthur sighed heavily as he sat in his office. It was Christmas Eve for God’s sake! Why should he have to be holed up in the stuffy room, surrounded by paperwork that didn’t even matter? He slumped lower in his chair with a huff. He rubbed his temples to try to ease the headache that was starting to come on from so much work and stress. He glanced outside at the snow flurry that raged on. It was hard to see what was going on out there, even after he got up and tried to wipe off some fog from the window with his sleeve.

He glanced back at the stacks of paperwork on his desk and sighed again. Well, maybe some tea will help him get back in the mood to work. It was unlikely, but he was out of tea anyways and needed something to try to help his headache. He opened up one of his desk drawers and pulled out a teabag. He took it with his mug down the hall to the break room, where he filled a kettle with water and waited. He jumped in surprise as his phone rang in his pocket. He pulled it out and smiled softly when he saw it was Francis. The thought of talking to him was already starting to ease his headache. He accepted the call and leaned against the counter as he held the phone to his ear.

“Hello,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes.

“Arthur! You sound so tired!” Francis exclaimed from the other end. “Is it from the travel to my house? You do not need to keep it a surprise anymore, you are too predictable!”

Arthur cringed, having had planned to do just that before he had found out he needed to stay and work. “No, I’m not tired because of traveling. I’m not tired at all,” he defended, though he immediately contradicted himself with a yawn.

“Arthur, you know it is not good to lie,” Francis teased. “Hurry up and come over, I will have the fire ready.”

“Francis, I’m still in London,” Arthur grumbled.

“What? But then how will you make it over by tomorrow? You know there is always such a rush tonight, you will get stuck in traffic!”

“I’m not going to be able to make it over at all. I got caught up with too much work suddenly, we will have to celebrate it late this year I’m afraid.”

Francis was silent for several moments before the line went dead. Arthur groaned and pocketed his phone. There was no point in trying to call him back to apologize. When Francis was upset over something, he held a grudge for a long time. Arthur would be lucky if he saw Francis again outside of world meetings before the snow melted.

He tried to come up with ways to apologize anyways. Maybe he could head over to Paris tonight anyways. He'd be late of course, but it'd be better than getting the cold shoulder from Francis. But then he'd get yelled at by his bosses and given even more paperwork as punishment. Why did he need to do their work for them, anyways? He was thousands of years older than them, he shouldn't be their servant!

His kettle whistling shocked him out of his thoughts. He sighed and rubbed his temples briefly to try to ease the sharp pain the high pitched noise brought before he poured the water into his mug over the teabag. He brought his mug back to his office as he let his tea steep and cool down. He sipped at it as he continued with his paperwork, working late into the night. Finally, at almost 5 in the morning when the words started blurring and getting jumbled together he headed back home, nearly driving off the road a couple of times from being so tired.

Once he somehow managed to make it home safely he trudged inside, only managing to make it to the couch before he passed out.

 

Arthur woke up late in the day, and it took him several seconds of staring up at the ceiling in confusion before he remembered he fell asleep on the couch. He slowly sat up and rolled his neck and stretched, grimacing at the several cracks and pops that came from the movement.The house was too quiet for being Christmas. He missed hearing Francis’ singing as he cooked for the many guests that would have visited that evening. The meager decorations that he and Francis had put up earlier in the month now mocked his loneliness.

He managed to get to his feet, stretching one more time before he shuffled to his bedroom. He tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes as best he could, then started to get ready for another late night at the office. He got dressed in a different outfit, putting on an extra layer to try to fight the weak heating in his office. He didn't bother taking a shower or brushing his hair. It wasn't like he was going to see anyone that day. He grabbed his phone charger, having forgotten to plug his phone in the previous night. He made some toast and munched on it as he tried to wake up some more.

Once he was done with his poor excuse of a meal he got in his car and headed to the office again. The roads were much more active than he was expecting, but he didn't care too much. He unlocked the door and headed inside, slumping down in his chair. He glared at the stacks of papers that still needed to be read over and signed. He slumped back in his chair and glared at it for a bit longer before he got back to work.

Throughout the afternoon and evening he tried to call Francis a couple of times, with no luck as expected. This only served to put him in a worse mood, and at eleven that night he decided that he had had enough. He was about to lock up the office again and head home when someone buzzed the door. He looked early at the speaker and hesitated briefly before he pressed the button on the speaker.

“Who the hell is it?” he asked gruffly.

“Rude! Is that any way to talk to your boyfriend~?”

Arthur paused for a moment, trying to process the voice that had come crackling through. “...Francis what the hell are you doing here?” he asked flatly. He wasn't sure whether to feel delighted that Francis wasn't actually angry at him after all or annoyed that Francis was visiting him in the office so late. Actually, why was Francis here at all?

“Arthurrrrr let me in, it's cold!” Francis whined through the speaker. Arthur groaned and shook his head.

“Fine, give me a minute,” he grumbled. He shut off the speaker and headed to the front door of the building. He opened it to find Francis there, shivering and holding several containers, too foggy from the cold for Arthur to see inside. Francis quickly pushed past him to shuffle inside, and Arthur rolled his eyes and shut and locked the door behind him.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Well I had been waiting at your house for you to come home-- I had this amazing feast spread out for you!-- but after a while I realized you probably fell asleep here so I decided to bring dinner to you!” Francis explained, as if it were so simple. Arthur rolled his eyes and led him back towards his office.

“No you idiot, I mean what are you doing here in London?” Arthur asked, looking at him annoyed.”I told you I wouldn't be able to see you for Christmas.”

“But that's exactly it Arthur! I was so sad when you told me you wouldn't make it, but then I came up with the most brilliant plan! ‘If Arthur cannot come to me for Christmas,’ I thought to myself, ‘then I must come to him!’. And so here I am,” Francis reasoned.

“You couldn't have waited until I was less busy with work?” Arthur asked as he opened the door to his office for Francis.

“No,” Francis said simply as he strode into the office. He set the containers down on Arthur's desk and pouted at the papers. “Well, these are in the way,” he noted. Without a word, he picked up a stack and set it on the floor next to the wall.  
“Wh-- Hey! I was working on those!” Arthur defended.

“Oh no you aren't. You and I are having dinner now, and there is no room for paperwork at the table,” Francis huffed.

“That's not a table, that's my desk!” Arthur exclaimed indignantly. He sighed and rubbed his temples. “There's an actual table in the break room. How about we eat in there?” he asked. Francis brightened up and grabbed the containers again.

“Well why did you not say so? Lead the way,” he cooed. Arthur rolled his eyes and led him to the break room. Francis set to work setting the different containers down on the table as Arthur took a couple of plates and silverware from the cupboards.

“You could live in this building with everything in here,” Francis noted.

“That's exactly why they keep these things in here,” Arthur scoffed. “Some like to stay late and make fancy dinners in here.”

“You mean like what we are doing right now?” Francis asked, smiling at him. Arthur sighed heavily and sat down.

“Yes, I suppose,” he admitted. The two started to eat, not talking much throughout from how hungry Arthur suddenly realized he was.

Once they both ate their fill, Francis sealed up the containers again and gave Arthur a wink as he grabbed all of them.

“I'll be right back. I have to go get dessert and your gifts,” he said. Arthur sighed and got up, digging his keys out of his pocket to hand them to Francis.

“Don't bring the gifts inside,” he said flatly.

“What's that?” Francis gasped as he started to head for the door. “Oh no, it seems I have suddenly become deaf!”

“Francis, I mean it. You better not bring any gifts for me in here,” Arthur threatened.

“I cannot hear you, I’m deaaaaf!” Francis called down the hall. Arthur sighed heavily, though there was a slight smile tugging at his lips. He set to work washing off their dishes in preparation for dessert, getting everything dried and set back on the table just as Francis came back in with a box, two wine bags, and five wrapped presents.

“Arthur great news! My deafness has been miraculously cured!” Francis exclaimed as he walked back into the room.

“How wonderful,” Arthur said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Francis set everything down on the table and smiled proudly at him.

“Would you like to open your gifts first or have dessert first?” Francis asked.

“How about we have dessert and then throw my gifts off of a cliff?” Arthur retorted. Francis pouted at him.

“Don't be so cruel! I went through a lot of trouble finding all of this!” he defended.

“Fine, I want dessert first. What did you make?” Arthur asked.

“Just some cake,” Francis said, taking the top of the box off to pull out a perfectly frosted chocolate cake. “I know about your sweet tooth, so I made it extra rich.”

Arthur smiled and sat down. “Well what are you waiting for? Cut it up already!” he insisted.

“While I'm cutting it, look in those two bags,” Francis said, gesturing to the two wine bags. Arthur peeked inside the first, wrinkling his nose as he pulled out a bottle of red wine and a glass. He couldn't read the label if he wanted, he wasn't even sure if it was in French or English from how fanciful and over-embellished the writing on it was.

“You know I don't like wine,” he huffed, setting it down.

“Of course I do! That's for me. Look in the other bag,” Francis said as he rummaged in the drawers for a knife. Arthur reached into the other bag, pulling out a bottle of spiced rum. He could tell by the label that it most likely hadn't been cheap. It was one of his favorites, but he never wanted to spend the money on it.

“...Oh,” he mumbled, feeling embarrassed for snapping at Francis so soon.

“See? I know you better than that,” Francis teased, finally finding a knife and walking back to the table to cut up the cake. He served them both a slice and set the knife aside so he could pour himself a glass of wine. Arthur pulled out a knife from his pocket, using it to pull out the cork from the bottle of rum so he could fill up his glass with it.

“You’re having that with the cake?” Francis asked, looking at him with a furrowed brow.

“You can't put rum in front of me and expect me not to drink it,” Arthur defended. Francis chuckled and shrugged.

“I suppose I cannot blame you for that. But at least try a bite of the cake before your tastebuds get ruined by the rum,” he suggested.

“Fine,” Arthur said with a sigh. He grabbed his fork and took a bite of the cake, his eyes widening in surprise.

“This…isn't half bad,” he mumbled, and Francis beamed proudly.

“Well of course! I only make the best for you,” he cooed.

“Yeah right. As if you're not trying to kill me with how much sugar you put in here,” Arthur reasoned, smirking at him. Francis laughed and took a couple of bites of his own slice of cake.

“Do not try to act like you do not like it,” he cooed.

“I never said that,” Arthur chuckled. The two finished up their slices slowly, chatting in between bites of their cake and sips of their drinks. Once they were done, Francis nudged the five wrapped presents across the table towards Arthur.

“Time to unwrap your gifts,” Francis said.

“Oh? Suddenly I'm blind,” Arthur mused, turning his head away as he took a sip of his rum.

“Arthur, let me spoil you,” Francis whined, nudging the gifts closer to him.

“Spoil me with what? I can't see anything,” Arthur said, deadpanned.

“Arthur it's Christmas!” Francis complained. Arthur sighed heavily and turned back towards him.

“Fine,” he grumbled. Francis smiled brightly and watched as Arthur opened up each of the gifts one by one. It was small, simple things such as a thick comforter so, as Francis put it, “You can finally get rid of that ugly ratty thing on your bed!”. Arthur gave him an annoyed glare and opened up the rest of the gifts, which ended up being a new pair of leather shoes, a gold watch, another high quality bottle of rum, and…an empty box.

“Really?” Arthur asked, looking up from the empty box to Francis.

“Well, I had a very complicated plan for that one, but I suppose you will just have to wait until we get back to your house to see it,” Francis huffed. is sighed.

“Really?” Arthur huffed.

“Of course!” Francis said happily. “It is the most important gift!”

“Well, we better hurry back to my home then so you can give it to me, and I can give you your gifts,” Arthur sighed.

Francis smiled brightly and got up to clean up everything, and Arthur got up to help too. Once they were done Arthur locked up the building before he followed Francis back to his house, the roads now almost completely dead. Francis stopped Arthur before Arthur opened the door.

“You have to close your eyes before we go inside,” he reasoned.

“Why?” Arthur asked.

“So that you do not see your gift immediately, of course!” Francis defended.

Arthur sighed heavily but closed his eyes. “Fine, but you better not make me run into anything,” he grumbled.

“Now when would I ever do such a thing?” Francis gasped.

“I don’t know, you tell me,” Arthur huffed as Francis opened the door for him and led him inside, carrying Arthur’s gifts for him.

“Okay now take off your shoes,” he instructed, helping Arthur keep his balance as Arthur blindly took off his shoes. He led Arthur into the living room, and all Arthur heard wa the rustling of some sheets before Francis guided him to sit down. Arthur immediately realized it was not his norma couch.

“Okay, open your eyes,” Francis said, standing back and clasping his hands. Arthur opened his eyes and inspected the leather recliner he was sitting in.

“You always complained about the couch not being comfortable to do your embroidery in, and when I saw that I just knew I had to get it for you!” Francis explained happily. “Do you like it?”

“It is very comfortable,” Arthur agreed, which made Francis beam more.

“I’m very glad!” he said, sitting down on the couch.

“Speaking of which, let me get you your gifts now,” Arthur said with a small sigh. “They aren’t as expensive or luxurious.”

“I’m sure they are wonderful all the same!” Francis assured him, clapping excitedly. “Oh I can’t wait!”

Arthur chuckled and went into his room, coming back with three very sloppily wrapped gifts, two large and wide gifts that Arthur struggled to hold and one small gift that looked suspiciously close to an envelope. They all looked wrapped in tape more than actual wrapping paper. Francis couldn’t help but laugh softly at it.

“I see you have not improved on wrapping since last year,” he noted. Arthur gave him an annoyed look.

“I can just take these back,” he said.

“You would not be so cruel!” Francis whined.

“I suppose not after the expensive gifts you have given me,” Arthur sighed, dropping the gifts on Francis’ lap nonchalantly. Francis wheezed slightly at how heavy the gifts were. He picked up the widest one, frowning as he felt a frame under it.

“Arthur please tell me you did not cover a very expensive painting in cheap wrapping paper and tape,” Francis whined.

“Just open it already, it’s not a painting,” Arthur defended.

Francis winced and gingerly opened up the gift, gasping at the giant embroidered canvas that greeted him. It was carefully detailed and lovingly crafted, with no stitch skipped over or out of place. It took Francis a moment, but he recognized the scene as his own garden.

“Oh Arthur it’s beautiful! Did you make this all yourself?” he asked.

“Of course I did. I’ve been working on it since August,” Arthur proclaimed proudly.

“Thank you. It will look beautiful in my home,” Francis cooed, getting up to go over to Arthur and kiss his cheek.

“Open your other gifts already,” Arthur huffed, giving Francis a small push back towards the couch.

“Fine, fine,” Francis chuckled. He sat back down and opened up the next large gift, his eyes already sparkling once he opened a small hole and got a peek at what was inside. He ripped the rest of the paper off and tossed it away to inspect the thick bolt of deep blue cotton underneath. He ran his fingers over the finely woven fabric, it was clearly high grade.

“This is gorgeous, and so lightweight too,” he said in amazement. “Where did you find such a thing?”

“I made a deal with Egypt for the cotton for it, it was made right down the street,” Arthur explained.

“It’s lovely. I'm sure I can find a good use for this. Thank you,” Francis said, batting his eyes at him. He picked up the last one, humming softly as he carefully unwrapped it.

“Don't bend that one, it's important,” Arthur insisted.

“I won't,” Francis promised as he opened up the wrapping paper to reveal the envelope underneath. “Oh, an envelope so I can send you a love letter. How kind,” he teased.

“Look inside the envelope you idiot,” Arthur chuckled.

“Hmm very well,” Francis mused as he carefully opened up the envelope. He pulled out two tickets and squinted slightly to make sure that he was reading them correctly. “Two tickets to see the Black Swan? Arthur I thought you hated ballet,” he said, looking at Arthur with a small frown. Arthur cleared his throat and glanced away.

“I can't stand it, but I know you like it. Those are good seats too, it's a private balcony,” he admitted with a small yawn. “I hope you're free that day.”

“I would not miss it for the world,” Francis assured him. He smiled softly as he saw the tired look in Arthur's eyes. “Come on, let's go to bed,” he said. He grabbed the blanket he had gotten Arthur and pulled it out of its package. He carried it to Arthur's room and spread it over Arthur's bed while Arthur brushed his teeth, and once Arthur was done Francis went into the bathroom to brush his teeth as well with the spare toothbrush he kept over at Arthur's. By the time he came back into the bedroom, Arthur was already fast asleep. Francis chuckled and curled up behind him.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispered, kissing Arthur's cheek before falling asleep too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked it, please leave a comment and/or kudos! (/owo)/


End file.
